The Time Trap
by WillSherJohnKhan
Summary: Sherlock is Steel, and Molly is Sapphire. "All irregularities will be handled by the forces controlling each dimension. Transuranic heavy elements may not be used where there is life. Medium atomic weights are available; Gold, Lead, Copper, Jet, Diamond, Radium, Sapphire, Silver and Steel. Sapphire and Steel have been assigned."
1. A Breach of Time

13 MONTAGUE STREET, LONDON

Time, we are led to believe will go on forever, its momentum continuous, its size immense. And yet – Time had a beginning, as it will have an end.

Time moves forward, but it can also move backwards, and sometimes it can break through into the present. It is then that Time can, at its most benign, play mischievous tricks, as it causes nothing more than a little harmless inconvenience. But in its more malevolent form, it can become incredibly destructive and dangerous.

So when Time made its presence felt in the house on Montague Street, a small child crying in her cot for a mother she would never see again, was the only witness to the sheer and absolute power that it wielded.


	2. Holmes & Hooper - Detecting Specialists

Several hours later...

ACROSS THE ROAD FROM 13 MONTAGUE STREET, LONDON

It may have been a dark and stormy night, but the flashes of lightening and the rumble of thunder could not disguise the mournful sound of a baby crying.

On the other side of the road two figures stood, their attention focussed on one terraced house in particular, one that looked exactly like all the others up and down the street. And so it appeared from the outside at least. But it was due to the events that had taken place on the inside that had seen the couple being sent here to investigate.

The man was tall and slim, with a head of unruly dark curls. His female companion was short with long brown hair, pulled back into a simple, practical ponytail.

But although they both appeared human, appearances can be deceiving.

There was a definite 'something' about the pair. And if you were to observe them closely you might even catch a glimpse of what marked them as more than what they seemed.

It took the form of a near visible aura that surrounded them. The man's was a cool grey, while the woman's was a bright blue. The colours not only suited their personalities, but gave them their names.

But the chances of your seeing it for certain were slim. For the human mind is apt to offer up a plausible explanation for things that it doesn't fully comprehend. So in this case it would more than likely be put down to a simple trick of the light coming from the streetlamps that lit the way along the darkened streets numerous nooks and crannies.

"You're certain it's originating from here?" Steel asked, his tone was clipped, his question direct and to the point.

His companion nodded. "Almost certainly," she responded, and then waited.

Steel turned to Sapphire, his grey eyes narrowed, "Almost?"

Sapphire turned to meet his gaze, a cheeky smile upon her lips, not the least fazed by his stern expression. "In so far as the origin of the breach took place from the inside of the building not from outside."

Satisfied, Steel turned back to face the house. But it soon became clear that his usual total focus was disturbed and distracted as he began fidgeting with his hair, and his clothes.

Sapphire raised an enquiring eyebrow, though her amused expression suggested she knew exactly what was irritating him.

"Does this shirt and suit have to be so tight," he asked, pulling at the shirt collar.

Sapphire moved to stand in front of him, and reached up, removing the tie before undoing the two top buttons on the shirt. Then she smoothed down the shirt collar.

"Better?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

Steel huffed impatiently. "Why are we doing this again? We don't normally go to this extreme. Not even for that assignment at that dreadful dinner party"

"You know why," Sapphire responded patiently. "It's a very delicate situation involving a small child, not yet a year old. By taking on these personas it should help us to gain the father's trust more easily."

"So why did you choose this look for me?"

"It suits your personality, and I like it," was the impish reply.

"You would," his cupids bow lips pouted petulantly.

Sapphire remained unapologetic, even going so far as to suggest. "You wouldn't consider changing the colour of your suit, and your eyes?"

"Certainly not," Steel sounded almost scandalised by the very notion. As he fiddled with his hair and trousers, he continued. "If I have to agree to this charade, it will be on the proviso that I still maintain my essence in my choice of colour."

Sapphire shook her head with resignation. "Very well," she agreed.

"Good," Steel said with some satisfaction. Having won the small victory, he immediately returned to the issue at hand, becoming all business as he indicated the house with a nod of his head. "Then I believe it's time we introduced ourselves."

13 MONTAGUE STREET

John Watson walked methodically up and down his living room, attempting to calm his distressed baby daughter, Rosie. But as he held her close, rubbing her back to sooth her cries, his thoughts returned to the events that had torn his whole world apart, leaving him shattered, distraught, dumb-founded and angry. He wanted answers. He wanted to know what had happened to his wife, and why?

But Detective Inspector Lestrade from Scotland Yard, though genuinely sympathetic, had appeared completely baffled, and was ultimately unable to give him a plausible explanation as to what had happened to Mary.

There were clear signs of a struggle. John knew his wife would have put up one hell of a fight to protect their precious daughter. But other than that there appeared to be no other clues, the whole scene was a complete mystery.

Lestrade had left promising to contact John as soon as he had the reports back from forensics. But John wasn't so convinced that the results, if there were any, would offer up any satisfactory answers.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sharp, precise knocking of the front door.

Opening the door John was taken aback, and a little confused by the couple who stood there.

The woman was small, dressed casually in black pants and a brightly coloured jumper, with runners on her feet. The bright smile she gave him was nearly as bright as her incredible blue eyes.

The man by contrast was dressed more formally in a dark grey suit, light grey shirt and expensive leather shoes. His expression was stern, he appeared cool and detached, which mirrored his eyes that were a metallic grey.

"John Hamish Watson," the man's authoritative voice broke through John's thoughts.

"Yes," he replied automatically, before pausing to look at them again in some confusion. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"No," the man responded as he pushed his way into the house, the woman followed.

John turned and angrily demanded. "Who the hell are you, and what right have you to enter my home?" As the woman calmly closed the door, a possible explanation came to mind and in a slightly calmer tone he asked. "Did Inspector Lestrade send you?"

"We're not with Scotland Yard, no," the woman replied, her voice friendly, but distant.

John clutched Rosie tightly to him. "Then who are you?" he demanded.

The man reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, and retrieved a business card that he handed to John.

Holmes & Hooper - Detecting Specialists  
221B Baker Street, London SW1  
'The agency that comes to you when the Police are out of their depth'  
CONSULTING AGENTS: Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper

Before John could fully comprehend what it was he'd just read Sherlock and Molly were already making their way up the stairs.

"Which is the child's room?" he heard Sherlock ask.

"The second door on the right," Molly replied.

John rushed after them as carefully as he could with Rosie in his arms. By the time he reached his daughter's bedroom, the couple were already surveying the room.

Without pausing in his examination Sherlock asked. "Where was the child?"

John looked at him blankly.

Sherlock paused briefly to demand impatiently. "Where was..."

"Rosie," Molly supplied.

"Where was she when your wife inexplicably disappeared from this room?" Sherlock pointed to the child in John's arms.

"In her cot," John replied.

"Put her there please," Sherlock instructed.

"It's all right," Molly reassured him. "Please place her in the cot."

No sooner had John set her down then Rosie had crawled to one side. Using the bars, she pulled herself unsteadily to her feet. The whole time her gaze remained fixed on one section of the far wall.

Sherlock moved carefully over to the cot, and crouched down to be at Rosie's eye level to see clearly the exact spot that had captured her attention.

When John made to move forward, Sherlock stopped him with a look.

Sherlock indicated with a nod of his head for Molly to investigate that section of the wall.

Molly walked cautiously towards the wall, her hands raised, the palms outward facing. After a couple of minutes she reported. "Yes, this is where it broke through."

"And is it still here?" Sherlock asked as he stood up slowly.

"Yes, but its muted."

"It's hiding?"

Molly continued to scan before giving her answer. "I believe so, yes."

"Collect the child," Sherlock instructed as he made his way out of the room.

John lifted Rosie out of the cot and followed the extraordinary couple.

Due to her position that had her facing in the opposite direction to the adults, Rosie was the only one to see the dull patch of light move from its hiding place under the wardrobe to the cot, where it disappeared under the covers. Rosie reached out a chubby hand pointing towards her cot, but none of the adults were paying attention.

The door to the bedroom was firmly shut and then they all headed downstairs.


	3. Time to Think

13 MONTAGUE STREET, LONDON

"Is there somewhere else the child can sleep?" Steel asked.

"She can sleep in our…my room," John responded.

Steel nodded satisfied, before turning briefly back to the now closed door to Rosie's bedroom. "That door is not to be opened under any circumstances," he instructed firmly. Then, as if to himself he continued. "Not until we know exactly what type of game Time is playing here."

John frowned, clearly confused. "I'm sorry, what do you mean time…"

Steel ignored him. Leaving the banal niceties of politeness to Sapphire, who was expert at putting people at ease, as she explained the seemingly incomprehensible complexities of time as if they were an everyday occurrence Steel headed back down the stairs.

There was much going on here, with an infinite number of possibilities. His mind was focused on what had drawn Time to break through on this occasion.

On previous assignments they had been able to establish that Time had; used nursery rhymes and old photographs; had made false promises to the dead; had been used as a weapon of revenge: and had attempted to change the course of history.

But what motivated it now?

They needed to find the answer, and quickly. For it was clear that Time was after something in particular, something that it had been unable to obtain on this occasion, of that Steel was certain.

So they needed to find a way of preventing it from making another attempt.

To do that he needed somewhere quiet to think and to make an analysis of the available data, scant as it was.

But he couldn't do that here. He needed to distance himself from the distractions of the distraught child and her father, who wanted answers to things that were beyond his understanding.

Telepathically, he told Sapphire. '221B Baker Street. Now.'

MONTAGUE STREET

By the time Sapphire caught up with Steel he was already out of the house and striding at pace down the street.

"Steel!" she called, as she attempted to keep up with his longer stride.

"What!" Steel snapped impatiently, coming to an abrupt halt. There was important work to do. They didn't have time for idle and unnecessary chit-chat.

"You can't leave them unprotected," Sapphire stated firmly.

"I haven't," Steel responded, nonchalantly indicating across the street from the Watson's address.

In the near darkness they were almost indiscernible from the shadows where they stood. But once Sapphire spotted them she let out a sigh of relief.

Lead stood guard, taking on the persona of a slim and scraggy down-and-out type, while the other sentry, Gold stood tall, looking particularly dapper in an expensive, top of the line three-piece-suit, the ensemble topped off with an umbrella that he used like a walking stick despite the fact the storm had passed.

Satisfied Sapphire trailed after Steel.

They had been walking for some time when Steel finally asked. "How the devil do we get to Baker Street from here?"

"Like this," Sapphire replied with a smile, raising her arm. And as if by magic a taxi pulled up alongside them.

"Where you going to?" the cabbie asked once the couple had climbed aboard.

"Baker St, number 221B," Sapphire responded.

221B BAKER STREET, LONDON

If the landlady Mrs Hudson was surprised by the arrival of the Interdimensional Operatives, or the identities that they had taken on she didn't show it.

She simply ushered them inside, before allowing them to make their way up the stairs to the flat they had used once before.

"You believe the child to be the true target?" Sapphire said.

Loathed as he was to admit it, he was as disturbed by the very notion as Sapphire.

"Yes I do."

They had been trying to make sense of what it was Time was trying to achieve by breaking through where, and how it had.

"But why her, it makes no sense."

Steel sat down in the leather chair by the fireplace. In silent contemplation, with his hands pressed together and positioned under his chin he contemplated a number of plausible explanations. "The parents," he finally responded. "What do we know about them?"

Sapphire's eyes changed from dark brown to a dazzling, glowing blue. "Father, John Hamish Watson, Army doctor, trained at St Bartholomew's Hospital London, deployed to Afghanistan with the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, stationed at Kandahar and Helmand."

"What about the mother?"

"Mary Rosemond Watson (nee Morstan), CIA trained Agent, employed by various governments who needed someone with her particular skill-set before she went freelance."

"So, an assassin."

"Yes."

Steel became thoughtful again as he processed the information, and then incorporated it into what they had already established about the breakthrough in the child's bedroom.

It was all finally beginning to make sense.

"So we have two people, both highly skilled in the affairs of combat and weaponry, meet up by chance, fall in love, get married and have a child."

Sapphire's eyes widened with understanding as she caught on to where Steel was heading with his explanation. "They voluntarily leave their violent professions and settle down to start a dull and ordinary life in which to raise their daughter."

"Precisely."

"But the human race is full of such occurrences, of decisions to change direction and leave old lives behind. What makes this one so important?"

"I don't know," Steel admitted. "I can only assume Time had a reason for wanting them to continue in their chosen professions."

"There was something Time wanted them to do, but they refused." Sapphire suggested.

"Possibly, but we need to know for certain."

"Yes, I agree."

13 MONTAGUE STREET - JOHN & MARY'S BEDROOM

Left on her own, Rosie lay in the bassinet in her parent's room. She could hear her daddy downstairs, pacing.

Movement caught her attention. She turned just in time to observe the circle of light that had been in her bedroom slip under the doorway into this one.

The light moved over to the bassinet, where it immediately began to morph into a familiar form.


	4. An Added Complication

221B BAKER STREET – FLAT – LIVING ROOM

Satisfied that they were on the right track, the two operatives allowed themselves a rare moment of relaxation.

Steel once again sitting on the leather armchair, with the fire now lit, its flickering flames ensuring an air of warmth and relaxation. Sapphire sat perched on the armrest of the same chair, one arm resting comfortably around Steel's broad shoulders, her cheek resting against his head of wayward curls.

"Why Sherlock," Steel inquired in genuine curiosity.

"It's extraordinary. Like you," she replied, the smile clear in the tone of her voice.

Steel leaned his head back so as to meet her eye. "And, Molly"

"It's plain, unremarkable, and doesn't draw any attention," Sapphire responded, before adding a tad ruefully, "Unlike my eyes."

"Which are remarkable," he stated, taking hold of her other hand, kissing the pulse point on her wrist. "Like you."

"Oh, isn't this sweet and so domestic," purred a familiar voice, shattering the intimacy of their private exchange.

Steel and Sapphire were immediately on their feet, their expressions returned to the cool business-like masks they used to ensure objectivity while establishing the reasoning and causes behind the rips in time they were sent to investigate, before working out how best to return time to its proper order.

The woman before them was striking. She could easily be mistaken for an artist's model, with her fine features, big eyes and her long wavy hair that glimmered with a coppery tinge that revealed her identity. At the moment however, dressed, or nearly dressed as she was in a revealing lacey ensemble that clung enticingly to her well-proportioned curves, she looked more like a courtesan, though the riding crop in her hand indicated dominatrix would be a more apt description.

But if she was hoping to distract Steel as she had once before, Copper was to be disappointed. Steel barely looked at her, his focus elsewhere as his eyes searched the rest of the room. It was clear he was looking for something, or someone else.

"Where is he?" Steel demanded. "Skulking around causing mischief as usual would be my guess."

Copper raised an elegant eyebrow, but refused to say anything.

Sapphire answered for her. "He's in the bedroom."

221B BAKER ST – FLAT - BEDROOM

When they entered the simply furnished bedroom, they found Copper's partner-in-crime Jet, laying spreadeagled across the double bed.

Though Jet and Copper were also Interdimensional Operatives, they were not as professional, in Steel's opinion. They preferred instead to have fun, playing about with Time.

Their little indiscretions had seen them more than once brought before a Tribunal to explain why they had not taken more care, focussing on their assignment rather than playing about. But somehow they always managed to get away with just a warning.

Steel was of the opinion that one of these days their foolish actions would see them biting off more than they could chew.

Time could never be under or over estimated. Treating it as their personal plaything was just asking for trouble.

Steel could only hope that when that day happened, he would be there to witness it.

But, until then, "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Jet, dressed in a tight-fitting sweater, leather jacket, jeans and boots, all in black, that matched the colour of his hair and eyes looked over at them, a smug smile playing across his lips.

"I thought it was fairly obvious," came back his rather petulant response. "I was trying it out."

"Well now that you have," Steel snapped impatiently, "You can get off, and explain why exactly you're here."

Jet did as ordered, with regards to the bed at least. "It's all work, work, work with you isn't it," he said as he walked over to stand toe to toe with Steel. "Don't you ever just want to have a bit of fun?"

The question though spoken to Steel was directed at Sapphire, who responded. "There is always time for fun, but only after the assignment is complete."

Jet rolled his eyes in an overly exaggerated dramatic way. "Boring!" he exclaimed.

"If it's such a waste of time, then what are you doing here?" Steel tried once again.

Copper, who had been standing behind Steel, stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his shoulder. "We've just completed our assignment, and we had a bit of free time, so we thought we'd come and see what you're up to. It's been an absolute age since we've seen each other. And this new look does make you look incredibly delicious."

Steel, calmly but firmly removed her hands from his person, and turned and walked out of the room. Over his shoulder he stated. "We're busy. We don't need, nor want any unnecessary distractions. So I suggest you get back to Home Base and see if they have anything to keep you occupied and out of trouble."

"Killjoy" Jet spat in a show of temper. And then he vanished.

221B BAKER STREET – FLAT – LIVING ROOM

As Sapphire came back into the living room Steel observed the barest flinch that briefly crossed her features.

"Something's wrong," he assessed, immediately on alert.

"I'm not certain," Sapphire admitted, a troubled frown creasing her brow. "I just had a strange sensation of something being not quite right."

"Then I think we need to get back to Montague Street," Steel suggested, watching Sapphire closely.

"Yes, we do."

They were on the point of leaving the flat when they realised that Copper still lingered.

Steel turned back and made his way over to where she stood. "Remember what I said Copper, you and Jet keep out of our way." To reinforce the point he reached out his hand and took hold of her firmly by the throat. "Am I clear?" he enquired.

"Crystal," Copper gasped in response. And then she too disappeared.

After Copper had departed Sapphire tried to offer an explanation for their immature behaviour. "They're young, inexperienced."

But Steel would have none of it, as he reminded her. "We have a very delicate situation to deal with. The last thing we need right now are those two larking about and interfering," he countered firmly. "Stop treating them as if they were children Sapphire, and focus on the actual, and extremely vulnerable child that needs our help."

Sapphire knew better than to take offence at Steel's stern manner. Behind that cool, tough exterior he did care very deeply. The last part of his statement was irrefutable proof of just how much.

MONTAGUE STREET, LONDON

Gold and Lead were caught off guard by Sapphire and Steel's unexpected return. They rushed over to join them. It was clear from their expressions that something was up.

"There's been no indication of any further activity," Gold began.

"Sapphire senses something isn't right," Steel interrupted.

And that was all that was needed by way of explanation. The four Elements made their way to the Watson's front door.

13 MONTAGUE STREET – SITTING ROOM

After the two investigators had left John had tried to relax, but it was simply impossible. All he could think about was how was he ever going to be able to cope without his beloved Mary? He knew that their infant daughter needed him more than ever, but selfishly all he could think about was how his wife's unexpected passing, for that was the best description he could come up with to deal with her disappearance, affected him. And what he wouldn't do just to have her walk through the door, happy, healthy, and very much alive once again.

When exhaustion finally overcame him he decided it was best he sleep on the sofa, as he didn't want to disturb Rosie who he had no doubt would already be fast asleep.

But no sooner had his eyes closed than John was rudely awoken by someone banging frantically on the front door.

When he opened the door Sherlock and Molly rushed past him and headed straight up the stairs. They were immediately followed by a well-dressed man, and a vagrant.

"I'm sorry!" John spluttered. "But who are you?" he called after the two newcomers, who were likewise now making their way up the stairs.

"Mycroft Holmes," Gold responded.

"Billy Wiggins," Lead supplied.

13 MONTAGUE ST – LANDING

By the time John joined the others, he found them standing outside his and Mary's bedroom door that was currently closed.

As he approached he realised that Sherlock and Molly, and the other two all had their heads cocked slightly to the side as they listened to something.

As he got closer to the door John too became aware of sounds coming from inside the bedroom.

Rosie was gurgling happily, while Mary sang her a lullaby.

John immediately felt a sense of elation and relief. His wish had been granted, his wife had returned safely.

But when he looked at the expressions on the others faces, he realised something was terribly wrong.

They all believed that Rosie was in danger.

When he moved to open the bedroom door, the one who called himself Billy held him back.

Sherlock approached the door cautiously. But the moment he reached for the door handle, the glow visible from under the door suddenly flared brightly, sending Sherlock hurtling across the landing.


End file.
